In the Words (of Satan)
by jaxfromplanetJUKEBOXICA
Summary: As the last pieces of me headed for my new home, I shouted, "Well, wherever you're sending me, you better make me an Earthbender!" I could hear Truth's grating cachinnation, "We'll see, we'll see." SI-OC.
1. Death, Thy Name is Bastard

In the Words (of Satan)

Chapter 1: Death, Thy Name is Bastard

Song: In the Words (of Satan) by The Arrows

* * *

Long story short, I died. Short story long, My name was Dana.

I was a 19 year-old college student majoring in archaeology. I was invited by my advisor to go on a dig with her team, and while it took a lot of convincing to get me to join (I was an anxiety-ridden nerd with mild cases of paranoia), I ultimately went.

It was fun; we flew out to the sight and began our excavation. A few days into the trip, we noticed that one of the caves at the site had evidence of early habitation and various remnants of old shards of pottery which stuck out in the dirt. My advisor thought that it was very likely we'd find more evidence further in the cave, but most of it was covered by rocks.

And so we decided to set a small explosion off and then remove the debris to continue our excavation. It was a reasonable idea when we thought about it...and then we actually did it, and guess who somehow got caught in the explosion? That's right, yours truly.

I can't remember the details, but I remember an explosion and then I was falling and everything just...went black.

It should have been the last time I opened my eyes, but it wasn't. The next time I did, it was all white. Everything, absolutely everything was white. Next to me I saw a baby, with its eyes closed, and sitting across from us was some amorphous blob.

At first I thought it was a blob. And then it came closer. And it grew shape and then it was as tall as I was.

"What are you?" I asked.

It grinned. "You mean you don't know who _I_ am?"

I shook my head. "No. Should I?"

"I guess the universe?" I stared at it blankly. "Maybe you know me as...God?"

I raised an eyebrow at it and looked closely at the strange shading that gave it an outline. If I didn't know any better I'd say it looked like that was-

"Truth." We said it at the same time and it grinned wider. "See," it said, grinning widely, "you do know me!"

I shook my head, "But you're not supposed to be real."

Truth cackled long and raucous, making me cold and shiver. "I'm as real as it gets, buddy." Truth threw its arms out, "I'm the real deal. Maybe you're the one who's supposed to be fake. Maybe you're the one who isn't supposed to be here."

"Then, why _am_ I here?"

"Oh, you won't be for long. Neither of you will." I turned to look at the little baby on the ground. As it started to wake up, it began crying louder and louder. "Why are you just staring at it? Why don't you pick it up?"

"I'm not very good with babies."

"Well, tough luck, I guess," said Truth as it watched me pick the crying thing off the floor. "But I guess you'll have to get over it soon anyway."

Confused, I asked what that meant and Truth being Truth just laughed and said, "Well, you see, sometimes I get bored, you know, being here...all by my lonesome. I need entertainment every once in a while. That's where you come in." Truth sat down on the floor and crossed its legs. "See, the two of you? Yeah, you're both dead. And, well, sometimes I think it's fun to switch souls around, so that's what I'm doing with you two."

"You're _what_?"

"It's not like I haven't done it before. Souls are reincarnated all the time," Truth shrugged. "Your soul used to be Freddie Mercury..." I raised my eyebrows, "Just kidding! Actually, that weird kid who lived down your street, what was his name? Larry? Barry?"

"Harry," I interjected.

"Right," Truth snapped its fingers, "Harry actually used to be Freddie Mercury. You on the other hand used to be some old crone named Esmerelda, and before that, you died a sad, little lonely man named Nicholas with no friends. Boo hoo." Truth drew a finger down from its eye to its chin and frowned in mockery. "So like I was saying, souls are reincarnated all the time, just in their own worlds though. You two lovelies," Truth stood up and pinched my cheek, "are the special ones today. Usually I don't do this because it usually turns out wrong, but I thought, 'hey, it's a Friday, let's do something new.'"

"So you're taking our souls and switching their places?" I asked.

"Ding ding ding! She got it!"

"In each other's bodies…?"

"Ah, no," explained Truth. "See, that's the fun part. Well, maybe not so fun. That little baby died a couple nights ago from colic, and your corpse was blown sky high so I don't think that's so smart. You two get to restart your lives! Just like everyone else does in every other world when they die! In those miserable bodies you all have! Gosh, being mortal must just suck sometimes, am I right?" Truth elbowed me in the stomach. I felt a pull and watched as what looked like particles of me starting floating away. "Ooh! Lookie! I think it's time for you both to go now! I do so hope you provide me with some good entertainment this time. Last time, one of them destroyed their entire _planet_ and I had to start all over with them. It was a mess."

"Wait, but shouldn't this, I don't know, somehow violate the principles of equivalent exchange?" I asked hastily. "And doesn't this kind of count as human transmutation?"

"Well, you're both souls, so you're both equivalent. The two of you are just going to different worlds, that's all," Truth tapped its chin. "And as for human transmutation? Not really...I'm not binding you to anything and I'm not resurrecting you. You two will end up going to whatever body snatches you first. I'm just mixing up where you two are going for my own entertainment."

"You son of a bitch," I spat. "You can't just do that. You can't just play with people's lives like that."

"Uh, yes I can. _I'm_ _Truth_. I can do anything. And since I'm just an immortal metaphysical being, I can't really be the son of anything."

"And why," I asked with frustration, "why did you even tell me this in the first place? Won't I remember?" I felt the tug on my soul.

Truth laughed at me, "No one can remember when they're reborn. Do you think you can actually remember living as Esmerelda or that sad, little man? Can you imagine the emotional and mental trauma that would cause? I'm not _that_ cruel...but maybe just a smidge."

As the last pieces of me headed for my new home, I shouted, "Well, wherever you're sending me, you better make me an Earthbender!"

I could hear Truth's grating cachinnation, "We'll see, we'll see."

Oh, and by the way, I could remember all of it. "Not that cruel" my ass.

And that was just the beginning.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Yo. I'm Jax from planet JUKEBOX. One day I had a thought and then I turned it into this fic.


	2. I Guess I Didn't Know Me Like I Thought

In the Words (of Satan)

Chapter 2: I Thought I Knew Who I Was

Song: Don't You Know Who I Think I Am by Fall Out Boy

(I'll admit, the title of this chapter was inspired by this song)

* * *

For the record, when I came to, it wasn't like I found myself just chilling in my mother's womb. It was actually when I was being pushed through the birth canal, and because I have as much sympathy for you as I do for myself, I will actually _not_ tell you what that was like.

Everything was too loud, too amorphous. I couldn't see and I was bombarded by my senses. It was all too much and it was everything all at once. It continued like that nearly every day. Enraged, I would cry and scream, still stuck inside my head remembering just what Truth had done to me. When I wasn't a screaming, crying, bundle of terror, I was a downright joy. Because I was sleeping, not because I decided to go all "goo goo ga ga" for my new parents. Pun intended, bitch.

I don't think I need to tell you about the embarrassment that came with using a diaper as my portable bathroom. Or the embarrassment that was being breastfed...and being fully aware while it happened. Fun times…

Being an infant certainly changed the way I thought about things, or rather, the way I viewed my independence and privacy. I never missed anything so much before and suddenly I understood the real value of being able to independently be able to wipe my own ass and eat actual food and do it by myself. Not that I was completely invalid or anything, but it took a little while for me to get the hang of doing things independently. I couldn't talk properly because my body was getting used to the feel of needing to use my mouth to make words, and things like crawling, walking and running took some time because my muscles were just starting to really develop. What could I do? I was a baby, after all.

Maybe the worst part of it was just being stuck in my head thinking about how I would never get my old life back, how I would never see my parents or my brothers. I would never see my old friends again and I would never get to grow old. It kind of hurt. Now, after the first year and a half or so, I got used to the idea of learning how to grow into this new person that I now was, but it was still hard to let go. I had to still keep in mind some parts of my old identity while letting go of others and it _hurt_. A lot.

When I was around two and a half, I realized that my future, and the future of my family, looked rather grim. I was toddling, as toddlers do, and I fell. It wasn't a hard fall, but I hit my head. My father sat at the kitchen table reading a book while my mother was watching me attempt to walk. I tumbled straight into the corner of one of the walls and heard a gasp from my father as my mother ran towards me in worry. I didn't cry because it didn't hurt, and as my mother picked me up off the ground, she said, "Oh thank Ishvala you're alright!"

I started crying right afterwards. My mom was worried that I was crying because I hit my head a little too hard, but it wasn't that, it was that I actually knew where I was. I knew that there was a very good chance that these good people were going to die. And I would probably die too.

 **. . . .**

I'm not quite sure why it didn't click before. I think it's because as I grew accustomed to living in my new home and adjusting to my new family, I didn't really think anything was out of the ordinary; they looked normal to me.

My parents were a young handsome couple in their early twenties. Arthur, my father, was a tall man. He had strong broad shoulders and an easygoing smile that fit his face. My mother was a petite woman named Tammy. She smelled like honeysuckle and had very thick hair that she usually wore in a braid. Every so often, my dad would come home after working in the mines to see me sitting in front of a book reading with my mom. He would pick me up, lift me high into the air and laugh very loudly while my mother would jokingly scold him for getting me dirty while I kind of just hung out squirming. I think I'd be lying if I said I wasn't starting to love them. They were all I had to cling to, and while at first I was angry about it, I eventually was glad to hold on to them. They named me Ruth, to honor Tammy's grandmother.

Life was just really, really normal. They had friends who would come over with their small children, they took me with them to town events, etc. They seemed like a perfectly happy couple and I their very grumpy firstborn child.

I didn't get it though, because what was the point of sending me here if I knew what was going to happen? Was Truth counting on me to remember? I didn't think so, considering the fact that Truth did say "can you imagine the trauma?" Although it was probably likely that Truth lied for shits and giggles.

 **. . . .**

"Ma!" I tugged on my mother's skirt as she put on her sandals. She looked down at me and pat my head.

"Yes?"

"Where you go?" Yes, quite the vocabulary for a two-year-old. Stunning. "I come with you?"

"Uh, I guess? But Ruthie, last time you came with me to the flower shop, you got bored and cried that you wanted to go home." She frowned at me. "And you didn't stop the whole time we were there...and I had to close the shop early." She muttered that last bit under her breath.

"I'll be good this time!"

"How about...you go with Daddy?"

I pouted. "But I want to go with you." Come on, who could resist this face?

My dad walked into the kitchen to the two of us eyeing each other. "What's all the hullaballoo?"

I wrinkled my nose at him. "You say weird things."

"Well, the tree is not so far from the apple, my dear." He bopped my nose. Oh, Dad.

My mother sighed in the background. "Well, I'm going to work. Art, it's your turn today. I love you!" And the door shut behind her.

My dad clapped his hands and looked at me, "Wanna go play in some dirt?"

"Yeah!"

 **. .**

"And here we have our pickaxe, a shovel, a small stack of explosives-for reasons I'll tell you about later-" I shivered a little bit "-a utility belt, a bottle of water, some food your mom gave us...am I missing anything? Oh, right! And our safety belts, goggles, masks and helmets."

In case you didn't notice, Dad was going to show me a little bit of the mines. Since I was usually in daycare, I never saw what my dad really did for a living, but daycare was off on Fridays so one of my parents would watch me for that day.

"Now," Dad said, waggling his finger at me, "We're not going to go into the mines all the way. I'll just show you what I do from the entrance, and then Ben over there-"

A balding man with a toothy grin and a potbelly waved at us.

"-is going to watch you while I work for a little while. And he brought his kids today too, so you won't be so alone! Isn't this fun?!"

"Uh...yeah! Awesome!"

"Look at you," my dad sniffed and wiped his eye. "Not even three and you're growing up so fast." Oh, boy.

Well, the tunnels were rather steep, so I didn't really get a great look inside, but I saw that the tunnel went on for a long while. Miners went way past my dad, and I was starting to hatch an idea.

"Cool, right?" My dad called. He was hacking away at rock in the ground and I could see the tunnel widen a little bit.

"The coolest," I shouted back.

The good news was that I think I had an idea for how to save everybody. The bad news was how I was going to do it. Well, that and just about everything else that involved my plan...hey, don't give me that look, I just needed to figure some things out, that's all.

* * *

 **A/N:**

You know, you guys make me feel so flattered. I always find dialogue one of the harder things to write (and I really experience that working on my other fic), so I'm actually kind of pleased with how it's been turning out here. Thank you so much, **TheOneKrafter** , **spicyrash** (I love your username-it makes me chuckle), **JaylaFireGirl** , and **eekdon** for reviewing!

You know, **eedakon** , I sometimes will read fics that really try to depict Truth as villainous, and Truth kind of comes off that way in FMA, but it really isn't. Truth is always so enigmatic and kind of sardonic, and while it does kind of seem like Truth does villainous things, I always kind of thought of Truth as some really metaphysical being that kind of just sits there and waits for things to happen.

Thanks for reading :)

-Jax from planet JUKEBOX


	3. Fake It 'Til You Make It

In the Words (of Satan)

Chapter 3: Fake It 'Til You Make It

Song: Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes

* * *

When I turned about three, my mom gave birth to my brother Oliver. When I was five, she gave birth to our sister Molly, and it was around that time that I decided to spring my plan into action. See, the thing is, my plan turned out to be a little bit of a hazard for myself. How, you might ask?

Well, I had to fake a seizure.

Ridiculous, I know, but look, if I was going to tell my people what our doomed future was actually going to look like and that it was more than likely going to happen, it wasn't like I could just say, "hey guys, I'm actually not from here—I was actually reborn, and where I come from, this was actually a story! And we all die!" I had to actually do something to convince them that this looming threat of death was real and that somehow I got a warning about it.

As far as I knew, Ishvalans were absolutely devoted to Ishvala. We incorporated it into everything we did. Whether it was speaking, breathing, sleeping, crying, drinking, eating, or even crapping‒you name it, and Ishvala had everything to do with it. As a people, we were humble, wishing not to partake anything that might cause too much vanity or blasphemy, such as alchemy. The idea that alchemy was the same as blasphemy came from the idea that it gave way to hubris and thus that humans were incapable of creating things or doing what Ishvala believed us to be capable of. For instance, something like studying science wouldn't be considered blasphemous or impure because we were given the tools by Ishvala himself to understand, create and progress. A good example of this would be bronze. We could naturally create it by ourselves, but alchemy meant skipping the part that meant you _actually_ did it. Alchemy made sense like this because people could just skip out on the hard part of the work, but to Ishvalans, it was absolutely unholy. It was a sin to the fullest extent.

Since Ishvalans believed so fiercely in Ishvala, the likelihood of Ishvalans becoming secular probably wouldn't happen for a long time, at least, if my plan worked and we all kept on living. It wasn't that I didn't believe in Ishvala, I mean, if Truth exists, then chances are Ishvala somehow did too. It was just that if Ishvala was so devoted to his people, then why didn't he give a sign? Send some sort of message...let the people know they needed to prepare for their potentially imminent doom for crying out loud. Didn't they have a right to know? Our prophets clearly didn't, and they were the ones claiming they had their connections with the damn bastard.

So I had to think about it for a little while.

I came to the realization that since I was five, and now it was 1893, we only had eight years until the Ishvalan Civil War, and in my opinion, it wasn't enough time to prepare at all. Maybe we could have stalled it, but wouldn't it have been better to prepare _for_ it? You know how in those old movies, when someone's having some sort of prophetic vision, and then their hands start shaking, their voices get weird and occasionally their eyes roll back into their heads? They always started telling the other characters about this new prophecy or that new vision that would come to pass if they didn't do something about it.

And that's basically what I decided to do.

But I wasn't a prophet, and I _definitely_ didn't have some sort of spiritual vision. I was just an adult woman in a child's body, who knew absolutely everything that was going to happen to the indigenous people living in her region, and pretty much everything else within the next twenty years or so. When I put it like that, it sounds kind of...dramatic, but it was the truth. I knew nearly everything that was going to happen.

And thus, on a Thursday afternoon when Dad was taking me back home from school when the sun was high in the sky, I decided to have a "vision".

* * *

It started off like this. I was holding Dad's hand and we were weaving through the crowds in the street. I planned it so we were walking right past the market stalls where we could easily see the priests heading into the temple. Kids would be walking home from school at this point, so it was definitely the prime time to fake a vision.

Stopping abruptly in the middle of our walk, I yanked on my dad's hand.

"Daddy," I groaned. "I don't feel good."

Dad frowned and bent his knees so he could be at my eye level. "Do you feel like you're going to throw up?"

"No," I said. I let go of his hand and clutched my head in both hands. "My head really hurts."

I let myself drop to my knees as I continued massaging my head in "pain." As I kept groaning, a crowd started forming around us.

"Arthur, is she okay?"

"Oh Ishvala, help that poor child."

"Does she have a fever?"

"You should take her to see a doctor right away!"

"Make her some soup!"

"I hope my Jeremiah doesn't catch what she has…"

"Mommy, I want a pony!"

At this point, it was sizeable enough that some priests were curious and coming our way. This was perfect.

I sunk down onto my knees and began shaking. Dad was trying to keep my still by holding my shoulders, but by that point I started "convulsing" enough to let my legs give out and fall onto the burning sandy ground. I kept my head between my arms and my hands clawed over my eyes as I started screaming and crying.

"Make it stop! Make it stop, Ishvala, make it stop!" I cried. "I don't want to see this!"

"What's happening? Ruthie, you have to tell me what's going on so I can help you!" Dad was frantic. I would be too if my child was seizing, and he looked so scared. This felt awful.

"Ishvala please don't show me this! I don't want them to die!" My body shook on the ground and my back arched up as I forced my eyes to roll up into my head. Damn, that bit hurt a whole lot. "Don't let us die—d-don't let them do this to us! Please no, no. No. _No. NO!"_

As my scream continued, I noticed some of the prophets gather around my body as Dad started shouting at them to get back. Finally, as my final "convulsions" stopped, I let my body drop back onto the ground and I panted heavily. I opened my eyes to see Dad's terrified face and several prophets watching me very carefully as one of them carefully crept over.

"What did you see, child?" He asked.

"Death," I whispered. "We die. The Amestrians, they come for us with bombs, with guns, with death and fire. We die, almost everyone dies."

The crowd gasped and several people began crying. "When-when will this happen?" The prophet asked. His face was pale and his hands shook as he looked me in the eyes.

"I-I don't know. Soon? It could happen even in a few years," I said quietly. I looked at the members of the crowd that circled all of us and noticed a boy standing there gripping his mother's hand. I knew this kid...I knew who Heathcliff Erbe was and how he would eventually die. I looked at him right in the eye. "You," I said, "you'll die. You die by someone you used to call a friend."

He ran away screaming with his mother chasing after him.

This may have been a mistake.

I say that because afterwards I pretended to faint. I would have been so pleased by my A-plus acting if it weren't for the fact that afterwards I actually did have a seizure. And a vision. And in this one, I saw Truth's face as It gripped me by my chin.

"You shouldn't have done that," It said viciously. It kicked me in the chest and I felt myself falling forever until I landed inside of my body. This was forever one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced.

As I landed inside of my body, and this time in a new plane of existence, I noticed a figure standing there. He looked like I did, well kind of. He was very tall and muscular, and he dressed in a plain tunic and a pair of pants with a sash tied around his waist. We were surrounded by miles and miles of sand and dust and dirt. I had never seen this man before. He was never in the series so I had no idea who he was.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He frowned and crossed his arms. "I think you know."

I felt my heart rise into my throat and I said nothing.

"It's time we talk," he said.

Apparently Truth wasn't the only "deity" that existed in these parts. Coincidentally, Ishvala did too.

* * *

 **A/N** :

Hi. I'm actually not dead. I just got sick over the summer but now I'm better :)

I still kind of update sporadically, but I hope that will change. By the way, did you know that I have no idea what I'm doing with this? Well, you do now.

Have a super swell day~

-Jax from planet JUKEBOX


	4. Well, That Happened

In the Words (of Satan)

Chapter 4: Well, That Happened

Song: I Ain't Afraid by Holly Near, or Gimme Knowledge by King Shelter

* * *

If you decided to look up the definition of awesome, there are two meanings. The general term people use means cool or excellent; it's an informal meaning of a word that over time became a wannabe troll twelve-year-old boy's meaning of "cool." The original definition of awesome means awe-inspiring, extremely daunting, or inspiring great admiration, apprehension, or fear, since awe also means fear. I can honestly say that going face-to-face with a fictional god was the original definition of awesome. I am honestly so grateful I didn't shit myself because I think that I may have if I was anybody else.

So there we were, you know, just staring each other down. Ishvala, the ever awe-inspiring, alchemy forbidding, stands-with-his-arms-crossed-to-scare-the-shit-out-of-you, god of the Ishvalans, and I, Ruth, your super awkward, kind of small, reincarnated-and-stuck-in-this-terrible-universe five-year-old Ishvalan.

If you need a visual, imagine Quentin Tarantino's classic Mexican standoff scenes that he puts in nearly every movie he has made. The only difference was that this was an all-powerful god, and I was a tiny mortal child. Regardless, we were staring each other down, waiting for the other to say the first word. I decided that the tension was uncomfortable, so I decided to break it…

...in the least eloquent way possible.

"Uh, hi," I said.

Ishvala raised his eyebrows at me. "Are you serious?"

I shrugged. "I thought it might be nice if I gave you a greeting before you and your all-powerful godly powers decided to smite me. I mean, if you want, I can prostrate in front of you and beg you not to kill me, but I'm kind of guessing that you can tell I'm not that kind of gal."

"I don't need you praying to me and begging how terribly sorry you are," he said. "I need you shutting your mouth. There's a reason why I can't tell them."

What possible reason would he have had to not tell his own prophets that something bad was coming for them?

"Can Truth hear us right now?" I asked.

Ishvala frowned and uncrossed his arms. "I don't know, but that isn't the point. The point is that you can't tell them."

I stared at him. This god, a god whose people would be persecuted for the next, maybe twenty years, didn't want me telling them that they ought to prepare for their potential imminent doom? What a load of absolute bullshit.

"You don't want me telling my people, _your_ people, to start protecting themselves? And besides, I hardly divulged anything," I said. "All I said was that people were going to die and that I wasn't sure when….and I told a kid that he was going to die too, which might not have been the best idea, but I didn't say a lot! Honestly!"

"You told them they were going to die by the hands of the Amestrians!"

"Well they are!"

He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "That's-you can't interfere! I can't interfere!"

It kind of clicked at that point.

"You can't talk to them, can you?" I asked. He said nothing, he only looked at me with that frown on his face. "You-you're powerless. You don't have power anymore. The only thing that's keeping you alive is the belief they have in you!"

"It's been like this for a long time."

"But, you're a god," I said. "I don't understand, how is it possible that even though these people wholeheartedly believe in you, that you don't have power anymore?"

"I'm tired, Ruth. At some point, gods die."

"But isn't Truth a god too then? Why isn't Truth dead?"

"Truth isn't dead because, and even I don't quite understand this, It is a constant. Truth has always been here and will continue to be even long after I have slowly become one with this particular universe, and you have been reincarnated time and time again," said Ishvala. "At some point things started, but Truth was here throughout all of it. Truth has been here forever, and will continue to stay."

I was speechless. Not because I didn't have anything to say, but because I had so much to say. I kind of just stood there for a couple seconds before I gave Ishvala my attention once more.

"I need you to understand that you can't suddenly just tell everyone what will happen," he said.

"I won't say everything," I promised. "I just need them to know so we can protect ourselves. We'll die without that."

He didn't say anything, he just looked sad.

"Let me be your messenger," I said suddenly.

"My what?"

"Your messenger. Like, not a prophet or anything, but I could talk to you or something and you could tell me what you think I ought to do," I explained. "It would be great because that way, you'll have a voice to the people."

Ishvala looked like he was thinking about it, and from the way his brow furrowed and he squinted his eyes, I thought he was actually going to consider it. But alas, I have been wrong before, and once again, this was one of those times.

"No."

"No?" I asked incredulously. Why would he say no? We could have easily managed to create communication between him and our people, so why would he say no? "Why not?"

"I don't have enough power to pull you here," he stated simply.

Oh. So, he really had no power left. This god couldn't do anything anymore, the only thing he could do was watch as his people would ultimately meet their doom. He couldn't even pull me to this part of his world—the fact that I ended up here was a mistake.

"So you'll just die here," I said slowly.

"It seems so."

"Huh. You really have nothing left?"

He shook his head. How could a god that looked just as imposing and fierce as Ishvala be able to just fade away? In a way, it felt wrong, because it takes away from faith and facts that are supposed to be instilled in you by your ancestors. I could have tried to think about it logically, but let's face it, nothing about this whole thing was logical...at all.

I felt my feet start to drift away like sand in the wind and I knew that I would soon go back to my body. I couldn't go before one final push.

"I know that you said that you and I can't do anything together, and I get it-I'm not supposed to act all omniscient, but isn't there something you can do to help me?" I pleaded. This final push had to work, it had to. I was desperate, but Ishvala shook his head.

"I don't think I can, I'm sorry Ruth."

My heart felt so heavy in my chest as he said it. There was nothing he was willing to do to help me rescue my people, _his_ people. "I need want your apologies," I spat. "I need your _help_."

He stepped forward and closed his hands around mine. "I'm sorry, Ruth, but there's nothing I can do for you." He kissed my forehead and I felt a searing pain that bled down into the rest of my body. He stepped back and held my face in his palms.

"Be careful with this," he whispered. "And even though I can't help you save our people, I have faith that you will without endangering their survival."

As I slowly woke up, I could hear Ishvala's voice ringing in my ears. "Remember, it's about survival, Ruth. It's about survival."

I would undoubtedly be alone in this, and how would I possibly know who could help me? I woke up to see the ceiling of my own home and my parents and the prophets from Ishvala's temple waiting for me to open my eyes.

"What did you see, Ruth?" My mother asked me.

I couldn't help it, all I could do was cry, so I did.

* * *

 **A/N:**

I know that scenes are short, but I do that because otherwise the storyline doesn't flow quite as well. I usually put song suggestions at the top because of the themes in them and because they sort of partially give me ideas about how to write out chapters.

 **You should review, and like, let me know what you think (because I enjoy reading what your thoughts are-and they give me motivation!)**

Hope you're having a doozy of a day~~

(I don't know why I do that)

-Jax from planet JUKEBOX


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